


Every Rose Has Its Thorn

by Booksinvolved



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booksinvolved/pseuds/Booksinvolved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark returns to school after summer break to her boyfriend Joffrey acting more distant and to the beautiful new girl Margaery Tyrell whom she can't help falling for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. If the students of Westeros High were to be called a family, then they were the most extraordinary of unhappy families. Each individual family that sent their child there was rich, moderately good-looking, and, above all, unhappy. However, every unhappy family has an exception, just as darkness cannot exist without light. Sansa Stark was one such exception. 

Young, beautiful, and with a heart of gold- anybody and everybody who met Sansa recognised that remarkable purity in her soul, that rare quality of hope that very few have. Everybody adored Sansa; even Sansa adored Sansa. 

But every rose has its thorn, and Sansa’s was Joffrey Baratheon. She was the most beautiful girl in school, and he the most handsome boy. Weren’t they bound to be romantically involved as per the unwritten and unspoken laws of high school? 

“I miss you.” Sansa whispered into the phone, twirling a strand of her auburn hair. 

“Yeah,” Joffrey replied. “But I’m going to see you tomorrow.” 

“I’m so glad summer break is over.” Her voice grew excited. “I’ve been working on this art project all summer and I think I’m finally-“ 

“Yeah,” Joffrey interrupted. “Cool. Hey, wanna hang out after school tomorrow?” 

Sansa blushed, knowing exactly what he meant by hang out. “I can’t. Mum wants me to teach Arya some of my “good manners”.” 

“I know exactly how well-mannered you are.” He snickered. 

Her blush deepened, and she thanked the gods that he couldn’t see her face. “Maybe the day after?” 

“Maybe.” 

There was an awkward silence. 

“Okay, I have to go. See you.” 

“Sure, bye. I love you.” She said, but Joffrey had already hung up. 

Sighing, she dropped her silent phone.“It’s because his dad died over the summer.” She told herself. “That’s why he’s been so… weird. It can’t be easy to get over your dad’s death, so maybe I need to give him a little space.”

And she had given him more than just a little space. She’d barely met her boyfriend over the summer, and their conversations grew shorter every day. Was Joffrey getting bored of her? Probably not, since he had asked her to hang out with him.

“He hasn’t kissed me all summer.” She thought, a little guilty to be feeling upset about such a trivial matter. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door, and Robb poked his head in. “Are you done?” 

“Done with what?” 

“Mushing your boyfriend.” He came in and sat next to her. 

“That’s not a word.” 

“Mushy. Mushing.” He said in a patronising tone. “So what does the golden boy say? Did he mush you?” 

Sansa glared at him and he laughed heartily. Robb had his father’s laugh. 

“Anyway,” Sansa said slyly. “When are you going to ask Jeyne out?” 

“I don’t date my sister’s friends. It’s a rule.” 

“Jeyne Westerling.” 

Robb flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We-ell, you know how she-“ 

“Okay,” Robb cut her off hastily. “That was a nice conversation, now I’m going to go to bed.” 

“And dream about Jeyne Weeesteeerling.” Sansa mocked him in a sing song voice. 

Her brother threw a pillow at her on his way out. 

“Happy mushing!” She heard as the door slammed shut. 

  


* * *

“This is beautiful, Sansa.” The art teacher said admiringly. “I love how you used the rose and the thorn as a metaphor for the assignment “Good vs. Evil”. And your use of light is brilliant!” 

“Thank you, Ms Martell.” Sansa could not keep her obvious pride out of her voice. “I worked really hard on it all summer.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Arianne Martell said as she noted down Sansa’s grade. “I was afraid that you would waste all your time with that boy Joffrey, but clearly I was wrong. You’re not only talented, but dedicated. That’s not a common combination.” 

Sansa was delighted. “That means a lot to me, Ms Martell, especially from you.” 

Arianne looked her in the eye. “Have you considered a career in art? There aren’t many who have your kind of aptitude for the subject. I’d be willing to do anything I can to help you excel at this.” 

Sansa knew that Ms Martell was famous for being the most passionate teacher in all of Westeros High, sometimes even frighteningly passionate. 

“I’m… not sure what my parents would think.” She hesitated. 

Arianne pursed her lips. “Just because you’re a girl, Sansa Stark, it doesn’t mean you can’t stand up for yourself. You have as much right to choosing your own path as your brothers do.” 

Sansa turned red. “I’ll think about it.” 

Averting her gaze from Ms Martell’s disappointed look, she snatched up her project and rushed for the door. 

“Thanks again, Ms Martell!” She called out, hurrying to get to class on time. 

Clutching the paper to her chest, she jogged up the stairs, panting for breath. Showing up late to her first day of World History wouldn’t make a good impression. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she nearly ran over her own boyfriend. 

“Hey!” He caught her. “Are you trying to run me over?” 

She glanced at the Clegane brothers standing on either side of Joffrey with more than just a little surprise. She hadn’t thought to see Joffrey with them. 

“Sorry.” She said, catching her breath and looking him in the eye. “I wasn’t looking.” 

"That’s obvious.” He smiled his half-smirk at her and her heart lifted. Maybe things between the two of them would go back to normal after all. 

“After you.” He gestured at the classroom door, still smiling. 

Holding back a smile, Sansa pushed the door open and Joffrey followed her inside. 

“You’re late.” Mr Seaworth said with a mildly disapproving tone. “Take your seats quickly.” 

“Yes, sir.” Sansa murmured, staring at the two new students who stood by Mr Seaworth, looking calm and composed. 

The boy was handsome, definitely. Probably even better-looking than Joffrey, but he had a very soft spoken air about him. He was like an effeminate version of Prince Charming. She sensed that he’d have all the girls swooning over him in no time at all. Joffrey wouldn’t like that.The girl next to him, evidently his sister, was beautiful. She was beautiful in every sense of the word and Sansa gazed enviously upon her dazzling brown curls as she took her seat. 

“As I was saying,” Mr Seaworth continued. “These are our newest students, Margaery and Loras Tyrell. I’m sure you’ll do all you can to make them feel welcome.” 

Margaery smiled with shimmering teeth and her brown eyes met Sansa’s blue ones. “I’m sure we’ll have a great time.”


	2. Chapter 2

Margaery took the empty seat in front of Sansa, her curls bouncing as she did so. Sansa felt a fleeting pang of jealousy as she took in Margaery’s perfect figure. 

“Hi.” Margaery whispered, turning slightly towards Sansa. “I’m Margaery.” 

“Margaery.” Sansa repeated stupidly, looking up to see if Mr Seaworth was done marking attendance. 

Margaery laughed softly. “Is that your name too?” 

“What? Oh, no!” Sansa turned bright red and sunk down in her seat. “I’m Sansa Stark.” 

“That’s a lovely name.” 

Sansa muttered thanks and buried her face in her book to hide her burning cheeks. 

“Alright,” Mr Seaworth said loudly, putting an end to all the chatter. “I know it’s your first day of school, but that doesn’t entitle you to a free period.” 

He crossed to the whiteboard and wrote in big, bold letters “THE COLD WAR” 

“This,” He continued. “Is going to be our topic for this term” 

He paused to cough, “Ms Stark?” 

Sansa lowered the book, revealing only her eyes. “Yes?” 

“While I appreciate your interest in World History, I’d like you to put that book down.” 

A few people sniggered and Sansa grew flustered. “Um… Mar- Mr! Seaworth. Yes.” 

Shamefaced, Sansa put the book down on the table and closed it. She’d thought one of the sniggers she’d heard sounded like Joffrey, but she must have heard wrong. Joffrey wouldn’t snigger at her- it was just Margaery who was getting her all flustered. 

“Before we talk about the Cold War,” Mr Seaworth said. “how many of you know about communism?” 

The entire class raised their hands. 

“How many would like to discuss it?” 

Only one hand remained raised. Margaery’s. Of course. 

“Yes, Margaery?” 

She stood up, and Sansa couldn’t help but notice the elegant way in which her hips swayed. 

“Communism,” Margaery began. “is basically an ideology that promotes equality by doing away with classism, distributing money equally, and there’s practically no government. Communism is actually a fundamentally good idea, but-“ 

She stopped as she heard Joffrey choke on his laughter a few seats away. 

“Joffrey!” Mr Seaworth said sharply. “Maybe you’d like to tell the class what you think about communism.” 

Lounging in his seat, Joffrey replied. “Communism is a load of bullshit.” 

He earned a few sniggers from the class, but Sansa noticed Margaery tense up. 

“That’s what an ignoramus would say. Communism isn’t a bad idea.” Margaery argued before Mr Seaworth could say anything. “It’s communists who have been bad people, and that’s because they tend to abuse their position of power and corrupt communism.” 

“Classism exists for a reason.” Joffrey said. “Some people just don’t deserve money or power.” 

“Who has the right to decide that? Everyone deserves to be happy, and that means being provided with the basic human amenities as well as certain luxuries, because-“ 

“Enough!” Mr Seaworth interrupted. “As interesting as that was, I only asked for an explanation, not for a debate. Margaery, thank you. Joffrey, see me after class.” 

Sansa could sense Margaery’s passion for the topic and her anger at her debate being cut short. Once Margaery sat down, Sansa placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered, “I think you were absolutely right.” 

Sansa would have been gratified to see the flattered smile that spread across the other girl’s face 

  


* * *

  


Jeyne caught up with Sansa once class was over and dragged her away. 

“Ow!” Sansa protested, looking back to see where Margaery was. 

“You have to tell me all about these Tyrells. I heard Loras is dreamy.” 

“He’s attractive.” Sansa admitted. “Handsome.” 

Jeyne giggled, “I also heard that Margaery got into a fight with your boyfriend.” 

Class just got over. How did you hear these things?” 

Jeyne shrugged. “So?” 

“So, what? Nothing. It was just a discussion. Besides, she’s really nice.” 

“Renly said she’s drop dead gorgeous.” 

“Yeah, she is.” 

“I gotta go to class, but we have to talk during break.” Jeyne scampered away. 

Sansa stood there, books in hand, feeling lost for words. For some inexplicable reason, she had taken a liking to the beautiful, passionate Margaery Tyrell. And she didn’t want to gossip about her. Margaery should be one of the most popular girls in school, but by pissing off Joffrey, she’d probably ruined her chances of making any friends. Which was quite sad, because Sansa knew that her friends would have loved Margaery. 

Any other girl in Sansa’s postion might have felt envy or anger at this beautiful newcomer who had angered the most popular boy in the school. It was a testament to the goodness of Sansa’s heart that her only concern was that Margaery would have trouble. 

“I hate that girl.” Joffrey came up to her, seething with rage. “Mr Seaworth said he’d put me in detention if I swore like that again, but he didn’t say anything to her!” 

“It’s her first day.” Sansa soothed him. “She was just being defensive, and Mr Seaworth didn’t want to say anything because she’s new.” 

“Did you notice her brother?” Joffrey asked spitefully. “He’s gotten really friendly with Renly already. He's probably a dumb gay too.” 

Sansa felt a bit uncomfortable with his homophobic comments, but she said nothing. 

“Anyway,” Joffrey calmed down. “My mother wants to meet you.” 

“What? When?” 

He slipped an arm around her waist and began walking. “Yeah, she’s invited you to dinner. Tonight.” 

“I have to spend time with Arya.” “Spend time with your annoying little sister before you come over.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you want to meet my family?” 

Sansa was understandably nervous. The Lannisters weren’t known for being “nice”. But maybe introducing Sansa to his family would help him get over his father’s death. Maybe Sansa could salvage what was left of their relationship. 

“Totally.” She smiled up at him. “It’s a date.” 

His trademark smirk appeared on his face again, and Sansa was just glad to see him smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner with the Lannisters was not something anyone would look forward to, least of all a gentle heart such as Sansa’s. But her compassion got ahead of her, and she would have done anything to make Joffrey happy again.

Of course, her family hadn’t been happy. Arya had choked at first, and congratulated Sansa on a newfound sense of humour. But then when they had realised that Sansa wasn’t bluffing, Robb, being the annoying older brother he was, had offered to accompany her so he could tell Joffrey to “grow a pair”.

Sansa sighed.

“Is everything alright?”

“What?” Sansa looked up from her plate to meet Cersei Lannister’s eyes.

“You’ve barely spoken.” She smiled a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh… Sorry Mrs Lannister.”

Sansa had never understood why Joffrey’s mother had refused to take his father’s last name when all the other women in her family had. She supposed it had something to do with her pride, and she ruefully realised that Ms Martell would approve.

“So tell us about your first day at school, Sansa.” Jaime Lannister smiled at her. His was one that showed off gleaming teeth and his eyes smirked. She could see the resemblance to Joffrey.

“It was alright.” She said, sensing that she should probably talk more. “I didn’t have a lot of classes today.”

“She almost ran me over to get to World History.” Joffrey added.

Cersei smiled again, but her expression was as hard as stone. Her brother, on the other hand, flashed his teeth and his expression towards Joffrey was… paternal.

“You’re interested in World History?” The third Lannister sibling spoke for the first time, which was surprising, since she’d been told that Tyrion Lannister loved to talk.

“Yes,” Sansa said, staring at her plate to avoid having to look at him. “I think it’s really interesting.”

“I don’t.” Joffrey sneered. “Hey, Sansa, tell them about that Margy girl.”

“Margaery.” She corrected him instantaneously. “Margaery Tyrell.”

She could feel the atmosphere in the room drop to freezing cold as she said those last two words.

“Tyrell?” Cersei asked politely.

“They’re new.” Sansa was suddenly afraid. “It’s their first day.”

“They?”

Tyrion interrupted. “I think we know a Tyrell, don’t you Jaime?”

“I can’t remember.” He said with the same feigned politeness as his sister. But Sansa caught the wary look that the three exchanged and she was very, very afraid of the Lannisters.

“Oh well.” Jaime changed the topic. “I hear you’re interested in art?”

“Yes, the art teacher has been really supportive.” Sansa said. 

“Art and World History?” Tyrion was impressed. “How did Joffrey get a girl like you?”

Sansa was unsure of how to respond so she contented herself with eating her food. She sensed Joffrey seething beside her, but guessed that he would behave in front of his mother.

“Sometimes I wonder how a man like father had a son like you.” Cersei said coolly. “You’re…different.”

“Sansa!” Jaime cut in almost desperately. “Tell us-“

“Different?” Tyrion asked.

“Well,” Cersei’s eyes flicked towards Sansa. “You certainly have different perspectives.”

“Ah, yes, a rather unfortunate side effect of my height, or lack thereof.” He retorted without missing a beat.

Jaime stood up suddenly. “Cersei, will you help me get the dessert?”

Joffrey was still smarting from Tyrion’s remark and he stood up, muttering something about the bathroom.

And Sansa was left alone with Tyrion Lannister.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that.” He said after a pause. “I don’t know why Cersei thought family dinner would be less awkward with you.”

“That’s alright, Mr Lannister.” Sansa said respectfully.

“Mr Lannister.” He laughed. “I haven’t been called that. Mostly they just call me “Imp”.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So tell me. How did the daughter of Ned Stark end up with a boy like my nephew?”

“I… don’t know what you mean.”

“You know what I mean. You’re a smart girl, Sansa. Not like the others.”

The others?

Sansa couldn’t help it and she met his eyes. His frighteningly mismatched eyes beneath a jutting forehead framed by lank blond hair. His chair was unusually tall to accommodate his height, and she could see his stumpy torso. He was terrifying, but his smile was the kindest she’d seen all evening.

“Don’t listen to what my sister tells you about the Tyrells.” He advised.

“She’s like a rose.” She blurted, drawn by the intense honesty in those green and black eyes.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “A rose.”

Joffrey re-entered at that moment with his mother and uncle, and Sansa had to avert her gaze. Cersei looked at them, but made no comment.

“Ice cream!” She exclaimed. “Here, Sansa, let me.”

As Sansa took a bowl from her, she shivered involuntarily as her fingers met Cersei's, but she paid no attention to it. The Lannisters had suddenly grown quiet, which was fine with Sansa, because she was absorbed in her own thoughts about a certain brown-eyed girl.

“Joffrey is a Lannister.” She thought suddenly. “He calls himself a Baratheon, but he’s a Lannister. Everybody at this table is a Lannister.”

She felt an inexplicable surge of panic, but she forced it down along with her ice cream. Almost as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

The Lannisters looked up simultaneously and Sansa panicked further. She couldn’t explain it, but she was noticing something dark about Joffrey’s family that made her afraid. She remembered Jaime talking about how he’d killed a madman once, and Cersei's tales of how Joffrey used to burn insects. There was definitely something sinister about them.

“Hello.” She almost fainted with relief when she heard Robb's voice. “Is Sansa here? It’s getting late and my father wanted her home.”

“Of course.” Cersei replied. “Come inside.”

“No thanks. Could you call Sansa?”

There was a pause and Cersei returned to fetch Sansa. The young girl had never been happier to leave behind an unfinished bowl of ice cream that was warmer than Cersei’s cold fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i just wanted to say thank you everyone for reading/leaving kudos/commenting like i appreciate it a lot!


	4. Chapter 4

“How was it?” Robb looked at her.

She shrugged noncommittally. “It was alright.”

“What were they like?”

Sansa paused. This was Robb. Her big brother. He was one of the few people she trusted most in this world, and she hated lying to him. But she’d also hate to have him worry about her.

“They weren’t as bad as people say.” She said diplomatically. “Tyrion Lannister was actually… nice.”

“The dwarf?” Robb was a little surprised. “I guess looks are deceiving.”

Robb Stark wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly when his little sister was upset, and he was sensitive enough to tell that she didn’t want to talk about it. She’d tell him when she was ready.

“How did it get so late anyway?” He asked.

“They had a little… family argument.”

Robb grinned. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know what it was about.” She admitted. “But I think it was kind of intense.”

“They didn’t take it out on you?” He struggled to keep concern out of his voice.

“Nah.” She said, feeling much better now. “They mushed me.”

“By they do you mean Joffrey?” He asked slyly. “I don’t want to know the details of your relationship, Little Bird.” He made a face.

Laughing, she shoved him playfully. “If you call me that, I’m going to have to start using Theon’s nicknames for you.”

If it weren’t so dark, she might have seen her brother blush for the first time. “Don’t you dare.”

“The Young Wolf.” She teased.

“Don’t!”

“What did you even do to get him to call you that?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“I think you two are adorable together.”

“We’ll invite you to our wedding.” He promised.

Sansa smiled, and for a while, the Lannisters were completely forgotten.

* * *

Joffrey was upset. Sansa didn’t even have to talk to him to know it. In fact, he’d been avoiding her all day. She looked around the cafeteria and saw Joffrey sulking at a table with the Cleganes. Taking a deep breath, she steered herself towards them and sat down next to Joffrey.

“Are you alright?” She asked in a low voice, hoping that Sandor and Gregor would have the decency not to eavesdrop.

“What were you talking about with my uncle?” He asked.

“Jaime?” She was puzzled for a moment. “Oh, Tyrion?”

He glared and she quailed.

“Nothing, he just wanted to know more about my art project.”

“He shouldn’t have said things like that at the dinner table.” Joffrey was still annoyed. “It’s not his place. He’s an Imp, Sansa, don’t talk to him again.”

“I’m sorry.” She said humbly, and her tone somewhat appeased Joffrey.

Now that Joffrey had been placated, Sansa turned to the next thing on her mind that was bothering her. She hadn’t seen Margaery since that World History class, and she was beginning to get a little worried. What if she had gotten into trouble?

“Or worse,” Sansa thought, looking at her lunch companions. “What if the Cleganes decided to give her a little payback for that incident?”

Sansa wouldn’t be surprised if the Cleganes had interfered. She knew that they loved violence, and that they had nothing against beating up girls. Well, at least she’d seen Gregor beating up a girl. She was too frightened of Sandor to go anywhere near him.

Loras was sitting at a table with Renly and his friends. So where was Margaery?

Joffrey nudged her. “Margaery, right?”

She looked to where he was pointing and was flooded with relief. Margaery Tyrell was scanning the tables for a familiar face.

“Maybe we could let her sit here?” Sansa suggested a little timidly.

Joffrey paused to consider it, his eyes scanning Margaery a little appreciatively.

“Hey, Margy!” He called out impulsively, waving his arm. “Come sit here!”

If she was surprised, the brown haired girl didn’t let it show on her face. Instead, she smiled gratefully as she took the seat right opposite Sansa.

“Thanks.” She said. “Joffrey? I’m sorry about yesterday.”

He waved his hand dismissively, as though he hadn’t been complaining about it just the previous night.

Margaery turned to look at Sansa and her stomach fluttered a little.

“And you’re Sansa?”

She nodded, unable to talk over the lump in her throat. Margaery’s eyes were intensely brown and they were always sparkling with an indescribable emotion that made Sansa feel extremely self-conscious and flustered. It wasn’t just about her beauty; it was her personality that burst through her eyes like a blinding light and left everyone else feeling raw and exposed.

“You have lovely eyes.” Margaery told her sincerely. “Like a wolf pup.”

Sansa was a little startled by that comparison. “Thank you, you’re beautiful.”

Margaery smiled again with obvious pleasure. “So you’re gorgeous and charming. I’m delighted to meet you.”

Joffrey was displeased with the lack of attention he was receiving.

“So!” He cut in. “Margy. What classes do you take?”

“Margaery.” Sansa corrected him automatically.

Margaery bestowed another smile upon Sansa before replying to Joffrey, but Sansa barely paid attention to their conversation.

Margaery Tyrell thought she was gorgeous and charming.

Sansa thought she was going to have a stroke from pure happiness. The intelligent, beautiful and witty Margaery had called her gorgeous. She’d commented on Sansa’s eyes.

Sansa was just finding it hard to believe that a person like Margaery could exist, and even more so that such a person could like her.


	5. Chapter 5

Art class was really the only place where Sansa really felt at home. Very few people in her year took class, so Ms Martell allowed her a sizeable section of the room to spread out her materials and work in peace. 

Sansa decided that she liked the isolation. During Art, nothing mattered but her and the art before her. It was her private space where everything else in her life took a step back as she expressed who she truly was. 

At the moment, she was rearranging objects on the table to try to get them to catch the light in the way that most reflected what she was trying to create. The theme was romance in still life. Sansa had been given a half-bitten apple, some cylinders, and a few glittering beads. She’d taken the liberty of arranging her own setting with a rather dim lighting. 

Ms Martell slid into the seat next to her, which was unusual, since she believed in advanced students working on their own and not being influenced by others. 

“Could I talk to you for a second?” She murmured so as not to disturb the other students. 

Sansa came out of her intense concentration and nodded, a little curious. 

“You’ve met the new student.” It was more of a statement, than a question. 

Sansa looked around, and was more than a little surprised to see Margaery at another table, her brow furrowed as she stared at the objects in front of her. 

“Is there a problem?” Sansa asked. 

“Not exactly.” Arianne was looking at Margaery. “You see, as per the school rules, she has to work at the same level as the rest of her grade. But she’s not quite at that level.” 

“She hasn’t studied art before?” 

“Oh, no, she has. I asked her. But their art classes weren’t as… complex as ours.” 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Help her out?” Arianne sighed. “I hate to give you this responsibility, but I wouldn’t if I didn’t think you could handle it. And I think helping someone with a different perspective will help you broaden your own perspectives. You’re brilliant, Sansa. But I think expanding your horizons is what you really need.” 

Sansa looked at Margaery again. She was prodding some of the cylinders to make them roll gently into position. A strand of her hair had escaped and was dangling in her face, but she was so focused she didn’t seem to have noticed. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Arianne smiled. “I like her. Something tells me that you will too.”  


* * *

  


“Sansa!” Margaery had to jog behind her to catch up. 

The girl with the brilliant blue eyes stopped and turned. As usual, her eyes lit up to see Margaery. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, because Margaery really wanted Sansa to like her. 

“Hi.” Sansa smiled a little nervously. 

“Ms Martell said you were gonna help me with art?” Margaery asked, panting for breath. 

“Oh, yeah!” Sansa seemed even more nervous and Margaery wondered if she even wanted to help. She was a little afraid to push Sansa in asking for favours, but she decided to steel herself to it. She hooked one arm in Sansa’s and they walked down the hallway. 

“I’m not free during school hours.” She said apologetically. “Is after school alright?” 

“Yeah!” Sansa said enthusiastically. “I mean, you could come over to my place… today?” “Perfect!” Margaery beamed. 

She unhooked her arm to finger a strand of Sansa’s hair. “You have perfect hair. It’s almost as soft as fur.” 

“Well, you did call me a wolf pup.” Sansa laughed. 

Sansa’s laugh was music to Margaery’s ears. It was a laugh full of innocence and it promised happiness in its purest form. Margaery had to practically force herself from complimenting Sansa’s laugh, as she didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. 

“If you’re as adorable as a wolf pup, then you must bite like one as well.” Margaery winked. Sansa blushed. “Oh… no, I don’t- I don’t bite, I mean…” 

It was Margaery's turn to laugh. She’d never met a girl as refreshingly charming as Sansa. 

“I was joking. But I’m sure you have a spirit as fierce as a wolf pup’s, hidden beneath your elegant charm.” 

“Do you always talk like that?” Sansa was smiling. 

“Only when I'm trying to be flattering.” 

“Well, you’re doing a good job.” 

Margaery was delighted to see Sansa visibly relax around her with every passing second. On her first day at school, Sansa had shown her more warmth and kindness than she probably deserved, and she’d instinctively developed a fondness for this “Wolf Pup”. 

“Hey, Big Birdie!” 

Margaery and Sansa both swivelled to see a younger girl with piercing grey eyes grinning widely at them. 

“Hi!” She chirped at Margaery before turning to look at Sansa. “You forgot your art stuff, Birdbrain. Ms Martell told me to give them back.” 

“Don’t call me that.” She hissed, grabbing her papers. 

“Birdie.” The girl giggled again, and Margaery was amused. 

“You don’t want me using your nickname in front of Margaery, do you?” 

“You wouldn’t.” The girl gaped. “Not even you could be so horrible.” 

“Hor………..” Sansa began threateningly. 

“OK, OK!” The girl interrupted quickly. “I’m going!” 

And with a flip of her brown hair, she was gone. 

“Who was that?” Margaery asked a now flustered Sansa. 

“Oh, just my little sister.” Sansa took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, that’s alright. Loras and I squabble a lot too.” 

“Mother says that Arya hasn’t learned to behave.” Sansa confessed. “But she really just enjoys embarrassing me.” 

“Birdie?” Margaery enquired. 

Sansa flushed. “My family calls me Little Bird. Please don’t’ call me that.” She added. 

Margaery smiled. “Cute! But I prefer Wolf Pup.” 

Sansa’s flush faded and she relaxed again, the embarrassment of the moment forgotten. “I’m going to have to come up with an interesting nickname for you.” 

Margaery chuckled at that, remembering how Loras used to call her “Maid Margaery”, making fun of her obsession with fairy tales. She hoped Sansa, at least, would think of something less embarrassing. 

“By the way, what is your sister’s nickname?” 

Sansa hesitated. “None of us really mean it, of course. She’s actually pretty- not that I’d ever tell her that. We’re only joking around.” 

Margaery raised an eyebrow. 

“Horseface.” She revealed. 

The two girls laughed, and Margaery finally felt a sense of belonging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK first I want to say thank you, if you're reading this, for being patient with me. I know I don't update regularly, but I'm trying really hard to not give up on this one! So I promise that this is the only multi-chapter fic I'm working on, but I do draft a lot of one-shots on the side. Basically, I'll try not to update too irregularly, and I'm so sorry!  
> :)


	6. Chapter 6

“Nice house.” Margaery said appreciatively. 

Sansa smiled, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach as she swung the door open. 

Ned and Catelyn Stark were seated at the table, deep in discussion, while Bran and Rickon were playing by the couch. All four Starks looked up at the creaking of the door, and all four faces took on identical expressions of surprise. 

“Um… this is Margaery Tyrell.” Sansa explained. “She’s new, and I’m helping her out with some schoolwork.” Catelyn was the first to recover and she stood up, beaming. “It’s nice to meet you, Margaery. Do you girls want-“ 

“Mother!” Robb yelled, running down the stairs. “We’re… oh. Hi.” 

His mother pursed her lips. 

“Robb.” She said, a little reprimanding. 

“Dude,” Theon appeared behind Robb, and paused, taking in the scene before him. His eyes stopped on Margaery and he scanned her with a little smirk on his face. Robb rolled his eyes as though he knew exactly what Theon was thinking. Theon’s intentions were rarely secret; the entire family saw through everything he said or did. After all, he did practically live with them. 

“Hellooo.” Theon grinned at Margaery, prolonging the last syllable intentionally. 

Robb sighed and dragged Theon by the arm, while Margaery hid a smile. Theon was still grinning like an idiot. 

“We’re going out.” Robb explained hastily, and nodded at Sansa. 

As the door closed, they heard Robb. 

“Idiot!” 

Margaery giggled.   


* * *

  


“I'm sorry about Theon.” Sansa said as they sat in her room. 

“No, it’s alright.” She smiled mischievously. “Is he your brother too?” 

“No, but he might as well be a Stark. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with his own family.” 

“I can understand that. Your family’s really nice.” 

Margaery looked around the room and Sansa waited, a little afraid that she might judge her. The walls of her room weren’t covered with posters, but with her artwork. A sketch of the rest of her family hung right above the door, which she had taken the liberty of painting herself. Sansa was a pretty girl who liked pretty things. Little earrings dangled from a fancy jewellery stand on her table, next to neatly organised folders. An easel with her name inscribed on it and an unfinished painting of a garden was set up in the corner by the window. The window itself had a remarkable view, especially of the sunset. And one summer evening, when Joffrey hadn’t returned any of her calls and Sansa had been incredibly bored, she had fished out some decorations from the bottom of her craft basket and threaded them into the curtain. 

“It’s a pretty room.” Margaery was impressed. “It suits you.” 

Sansa was flattered. 

“So,” She began a little awkwardly. 

“Oh, yes!” Margaery smiled at Sansa apologetically, and the widening of her big brown eyes melted Sansa's heart. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.” 

Margaery looked at Sansa expectantly. “Where do you want to start?” 

Sansa flipped through her sketchbook, her awkwardness forgotten. They were discussing art now, and Sansa couldn’t afford to be anything but serious. She decided that sitting in her room with Margaery Tyrell, talking about her passion, was all she ever wanted.   


* * *

  


Margaery sighed. “I think I just need to practise a lot.” 

“Never stop.” Sansa advised. “Even if you’re tired, upset, or lazy- it doesn’t matter. Don’t ever let yourself idle. I mean, doodling is a form of art too. And try to draw the first thing that comes to mind when you think of an emotion. Don’t use a model, because that’s like copying. You want to convey an emotion or a feeling, rather than a scene or a place. That’s what art’s really about.” 

Sansa had unconsciously repeated the same words that Arianne Martell had told a promising young student two years ago. 

Margaery, for some reason, looked extremely happy at that. 

“What did I tell you?” She said fondly, placing her hand on Sansa's. “You’re a Wolf Pup with a passionate spirit.” 

It took all of Sansa's willpower not to look down at how their fingers entwined, with the gaps between them fitting perfectly. She couldn’t concentrate with Margaery's overpowering aura- her soft skin, her fresh perfume with just a hint of rose, the strand of brown hair that she kept tucking behind her ear. Sansa was utterly overwhelmed. On a sudden impulse, she reached with her free hand and tucked the strand of hair behind Margaery's ear. She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath, but when she looked at Margaery's expression, it was one of amusement with a faint smile. 

Her eyes, on the other hand, were a deeper brown, and they searched Sansa's for some emotion or expression. Sansa didn’t know how long they sat there, trying to find some meaning in the other’s features, but they were rudely jerked out of their privacy by a thumping up the stairs. 

“Your brother?” Margaery asked with a wry smile. 

“Probably.” Sansa said, realising that Margaery had removed her hand, and wondering when she had done so. “Nobody else makes as much noise.” 

The door flew open and a red faced Theon Greyjoy burst in, followed by a slightly irritable Robb. He grinned at the two girls. 

“Your grandmother’s here.” 

Margaery stood up. “What?” 

Robb pushed past Theon. “She’s inviting some of the families to a house party, so she dropped by. She also wanted you back home, Margaery.” 

“House party?” Margaery asked. 

“We could always go hang out somewhere else.” Theon winked. 

“No.” Robb said firmly, pushing Theon out the door. “See you later.” 

“Come on.” Margaery pulled Sansa up. “Let’s go find out about this party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAH, I'm so sorry!! But then, like I said on my profile, I don't really update regularly. I am trying, I promise!! Also I apologise if this chapter isn't as good, it's kind of like a filer chapter? But thanks for reading!!


	7. Chapter 7

The party lights shone bright and Robb could hear faint music wafting in from the backyard of the Tyrell house. The wind carried stray laughs and the party guests were obviously having a good time. 

“I still say we head off.” Theon whispered. “I'm not spending my Friday night here, man.” 

Robb sighed. “I’m not getting wasted in the first week of school, Theon.” 

Besides, his little sister was obviously excited to go to this party, and what kind of brother would Robb be if he abandoned her in the last minute? He had been surprised at how quickly Sansa had attached herself to Margaery, but then, she was Sansa. She was one of the most trusting people on the planet, and Robb just didn’t want her to get hurt. He was already worried that her obviously deteriorating relationship with Joffrey would break her heart. 

“Are you going in or what?” Theon interrupted his thoughts, prodding him towards the door where Sansa stood waiting. 

Robb sighed again.  


* * *

  


The backyard was much larger than Robb had anticipated. A surprising amount of people had shown up as well, considering that the Tyrells had only been in town for a week. He supposed that magnetic personalities ran in the family. 

He kept one eye trained on Sansa, who was talking to Margaery, but he didn’t even bother to keep an eye on Arya. He trusted that she could handle herself. And if she caught her brother being protective, she’d probably put a lizard in his shoe again. 

He hadn’t seen any of the Lannisters yet. It was probably for the best though, since Sansa was having a good enough time without Joffrey. He didn’t have any complaints about her friendship with Margaery yet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to look out. 

“Looks like Arya’s having fun.” Theon grinned mischievously. 

And indeed, Arya had struck up a conversation with a handsome boy, and Robb noticed that she was fidgeting nervously. He smiled inwardly. He’d finally have something to tease her about when they got home. 

“Party’s not so bad.” Robb turned to Theon. 

“No,” The youth admitted. “But I still say we bail.” 

“I'm not bailing out on my sisters.” Robb said sternly. 

“Your _dad’s_ here.” Theon urged him. “Just tell him you’re going out with Jon, and I’ll sneak out and meet you guys.” 

“Yeah, where is Jon?” 

“Getting laid.” Theon guessed nonchalantly. “Or getting drunk. Which we should be doing.” 

Of course. Jon was obsessed with his girlfriend, and Robb wondered if they ever spent a moment together where they weren’t making out or getting drunk and making out. Their father wouldn’t be happy if he knew, which is why Jon and Ygritte made sure that he didn't. 

“Do you really want to interrupt Jon and Ygritte?” 

“Where do you plan on getting the alcohol from?” 

_“Ah, yes.”_ Robb thought. _“One of Ygritte’s talents- an inexhaustible supply of free alcohol. I don’t even want to know how and where she gets it.”_

Robb didn’t hate Ygritte. To the contrary, he was glad to see that she made Jon happy. But he couldn’t help but worry, and also feel more than a little jealous that Jon was being stolen away from the Stark household. 

Robb looked at Sansa again, and her clear laughter convinced him that, for the moment, she was safe with Margaery. 

“Alright.” He said a little reluctantly. “But I'm not going to look for Jon and Ygritte.” 

Theon grinned again ecstatically and hurried in search of the two.  


* * *

  


Ned Stark was apprehensive. He wasn’t particularly fond of social gatherings, but he wasn’t going to let his children go to a stranger’s house on a Friday night. He trusted Robb to be safe, but he didn’t trust Sansa around Joffrey, and he knew better than to leave Arya unsupervised. 

“Enjoying yourself?” A vaguely familiar voice asked. 

Ned would have been lying if he’d said he was pleased to see Jaime Lannister. 

“The Tyrells are gracious hosts.” He said. 

“Gracious.” Jaime laughed. “Do you know anything about them?” 

“Not much.” Ned admitted. “I heard Mace Tyrell is a successful businessman down south. His mother and two children moved here because he’d heard a lot about Westeros High’s reputation.” 

Jaime nodded, and Ned was vaguely annoyed by his cocky amusement. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Jaime said. “How little we know about the Tyrells?” 

“They’ve only been here a week.” 

“I didn’t know Westeros High had a reputation.” Jaime continued, as though he hadn’t heard Ned. “And there are plenty of good schools down south.” 

“What does that matter to you?” 

Jaime shrugged and smirked at him, his arrogance evident. “We’re a small town. When there’s a problem, we have to deal with it together.” 

“I don’t see a problem.” Ned said curtly. 

“Damn it, Ned!” Jaime snapped, his composure breaking. “Don’t play the fool.” 

“Cersei sent you.” 

He looked around. “Actually, my father did.” 

The thought of Tywin Lannister left a sour taste in Ned’s mouth. 

“I’m going to be frank with you, Ned. I don’t like the Tyrells. My father knows them. Mace Tyrell is a swindler and a crook, and his business makes money by exploiting everyone else. But Olenna Tyrell is the real mastermind.” 

“So?” 

“Why has Olenna moved here all of a sudden? Something’s not right, and I can’t figure it out.” 

Ned wasn’t sure how to take this information. On one hand, he had to admit that the Tyrells were somewhat of a mystery. On the other, he didn’t trust any of the Lannisters as far as he could throw them. 

“I don’t see why this concerns us. That’s _their_ problem.” He took a sip of his drink, hoping that Jaime would take a hint and leave. 

“Your daughter is very friendly with the Tyrell girl.” Jaime observed the two laughing by a rose bush. 

Ned’s temper boiled. “Are you threatening my daughter?” 

“I’m not the threat to your daughter.” Jaime laughed, and Ned ground his teeth. “Her new best friend is.” 

Ned didn’t know what to make of any of this, but the one thing he did know was that Jaime Lannister was not beyond lying and manipulating to get what he wanted. The man had absolutely no morals. If Ned wanted to look into the Tyrells, he’d do it on his own terms, and not on the words of a pompous Lannister. 

“It was nice talking to you.” He said stiffly, placed his drink on a table, and walked away. 

“Think about it.” Jaime called after him. “I’d hate to see sweet, fragile little Sansa get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aah again i updated after rlly long im so sorry!! and asdaskfams im not happy with this chapter and im kinda stuck on the next chapter but im trying to write it i promisE


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this took so long!!! i feel terrible i finished writing this a week ago but didn't have the courage to put it up. this chapter was a little hard to write and i'm afraid that if i proofread it i'll delete everything and try to rewrite it (which is what i've been doing all this while) so this is basically my first draft i'm sorry

"I know you want it.” Theon sang blearily. “Bl _uuu_ red LINES!” 

Robb groaned. Theon was twice as drunk as all of them put together and it was amazing that he still managed to be coherent. Robb was certain that he would pass out onto the floor if he drank any more. 

Jon and Ygritte were – of course – nowhere to be seen. But Robb didn’t really care. Jon was old enough to look after himself, and anyway, he was used to sneaking out at night to go see Ygritte. He knew how to take care of himself. 

He didn’t know all the details of his brother’s love life – and he really didn’t want to – but his big brother instincts kicked in and he just hoped they’d be safe. 

Theon, meanwhile, was busy crooning unintelligible lyrics of a presumably inappropriate song to the sofa. Robb watched, faintly amused when Theon, offended by the apparent disinterest of the sofa, waved an angry hand at it and flopped to the floor. 

At least they were somewhere decent, Robb thought, where Theon didn’t have much of a chance to get into any sort of trouble. Ygritte’s family, who were in the shipping business, had purchased a few warehouses by the sea, but a couple of them had fallen into disuse. The one they were in was more of a shack than a warehouse, really, with only a chair, a table and a sofa – all in fairly good condition. The warehouse had recently been shut down to move the goods to another, larger warehouse, where they probably had better furniture. 

Theon, meanwhile, was pawing at the floor, and seemed to be unable to get up. Robb would have helped him up but he was overcome by a sudden wave of sickness, and he felt as though he would be sick all over the place if he bent down. 

He groaned again, and hoped that things at the party were going a lot better.  


* * *

  


"Are you having fun?" 

"Yes!" Sansa beamed at Margaery, feeling happier than she had in months. She'd never admit it, but the knowledge that Joffrey was nowhere to be seen made her feel light-headed and a lot more comfortable. 

"I'm glad." Margaery smiled back at her. 

Sansa hadn't known what to expect at Margaery's "party" - Joffrey's usually involved a lot of drinking and violence - but she was enjoying herself much more with the Tyrells. 

"Although," She reflected. "I wouldn't mind getting drunk with Margaery." 

It was fairly late, the sun was sinking lower in the sky, and Sansa was not oblivious to her father's sideways glances. Normally, she would have obliged and made her way back home after thanking Margaery for her hospitality, but something pulled her back. Some invisible force tugged at her heart and forced her to turn a blind eye to the time and to everything else that was not Margaery Tyrell. As if reading her mind, Margaery placed her hand on hers, and Sansa's heart jumped just as much as it had the first time. 

"I think your father wants you to go home." She said, her tone amused. 

"Uh..." Sansa breathed in, trying to concentrate on anything other than the gentle tapping of Margaery's fingers against hers. 

Margaery laughed, removing her hand from Sansa's to brush her hair back, and Sansa immediately crossed both of her hands on her lap. 

The guests were beginning to trickle away, Sansa noticed, expressing their thanks to the gracious Olenna Tyrell before disappearing. Ned Stark looked especially uncomfortable standing alone, since Catelyn had stayed home to look after the boys. Sansa felt a sudden pang of guilt for forcing him to wait for her. 

"You're right; I think I should go." She said without realising that Margaery had been silently watching her. "Before I get in trouble." 

If the other girl was disappointed, she hid it well. "Of course. What about Robb and Theon?" 

"They'll be fine." Sansa said, not believing what she was saying herself.  


* * *

  


Robb had a hard time dragging Theon up the stairs. 

"This is why," He grunted as he dumped Theon onto the spare mattress in his room. "I hate getting drunk with you." 

He sat on his bed with a loud sigh and pulled out his phone again. No new calls or messages. He'd tried looking for Jon before it got too dark, but had been unable to locate him. He wasn't answering his phone either. It wasn't uncommon for Jon to stay overnight at Ygritte's without prior notice, and later lie that he had been with Sam. 

Theon sat up all of a sudden, groaning and rubbing his head. It was a miracle that Catelyn Stark hadn't come out of her room yet to see what all the noise was about. 

The Greyjoy pushed himself up and teetered on his feet with Robb watching him warily, ready to catch him if he fell. He sat down next to Robb with an ungraceful thump. 

"You alright?" Robb asked with a faint smile. 

Wordlessly, Theon lay his head against Robb's shoulder and groaned again. Robb chuckled this time. 

The older boy's rough hair brushed Robb's cheek as he lifted his head again to look Robb in the eye. Theon's eyes were blurry and they couldn't seem to focus on one thing. He licked his lips repeatedly, as though he had something to say, and his eyelashes fluttered blearily. 

Without warning, Theon took Robb's face in his hands and kissed him. 

It was an awkward kiss; Theon's nose was pressed against his and he reeked of alcohol. Robb was too taken aback to do anything but widen his eyes at first, but then he was kissing Theon back, one arm holding Theon and the other clutching the bed for support. A part of him was still reeling, but he didn't care. He didn't know how long it was before they broke apart and Theon, without a word, pretending nothing had happened, rolled back onto his mattress. 

Robb turned the lights off a few minutes later.


	9. Chapter 9

" _Grounded?!_ " 

Sansa awoke with a start, her hair still heavy with the smell of Margaery's perfume. 

"For one week." She heard her father's voice. 

"Dad!" Robb argued. 

"You will not leave the house." 

"I have to go to school." 

"Only for school! And no computer." 

"But what if I have work?" 

"Use mine. And," He paused, sounding grim. "No Theon." 

" _What?!_ " 

Theon's voice had chimed in this time, and the half-asleep Sansa wasn't surprised to hear that he was in Robb's room too. 

"No Theon." Her father repeated. "He can leave right now." 

"But-" 

"No." Ned cut his son off. "This is what happens when you try to get away with coming home drunk. 

So _that_ was what had happened, Sansa thought. It certainly wouldn't be the first time Robb had tried to get away with coming home drunk, but it was the first time he'd gotten caught. She knew he was going to be miserable all week if he couldn't see Theon - just like that time Theon had had to travel for a month to visit some relative of his. 

She heard the door to Robb's room creak open and then slam shut, followed by the sound of the front door closing a short while later. Knowing that she wouldn't get any sleep after that, she pushed herself up and ran a hand through her hair. 

She could still feel the touch of Margaery's fingers on her skin, and the echoes of Margaery's laugh ringing softly in her ears. But for some reason, her heart grew heavy when she thought about what the Tyrell girl had told her just before she had left the party, clasping both her hands and smiling at her fondly. 

_"We could be sisters, you and I."_

Sansa liked Margaery, and she enjoyed her company. And she had always wanted a sister whom she could be as close to as she was with Robb. But, for some unfathomable reason, she didn't want Margaery to be that sister. For some unfathomable reason, her heart pained to know that Margaery thought of her as a sister. 

Sighing, she shook her head to clear it of any thoughts. Her morning tea was the first priority.  


* * *

  


Downstairs, Robb was nursing a cup of coffee in his hand and silently brooding over it. 

"Good morning." Her mother greeted her, immediately beginning to make Sansa's tea. "Margaery called." 

Sansa's heart leapt, but she was a little surprised that Margaery hadn't called her phone diredtly. "She did?" 

"She said she's going to a park with her family, and they want you to come too" 

"They?" Sansa asked, puzzled. 

Her mother smiled, placing the tea on the table. "She said they'd like to have you there." 

Was this what Margaery had meant by wanting to be her sister? 

"Seems like the two of you are good friends already." Her mother continued. 

According to Margaery, they were more than just good friends. Were sisters more than friends? She frowned at the cup before her. 

Glancing up, she felt a pang of guilt as she realised that the brother opposite her was facing a bigger problem. 

"You can still see him in school, you know?" She said in a low voice. 

"Hm?" He didn't look up. "Yeah." 

It was then that Sansa realised that he wasn't sulking, as she had originally assumed, but was wearing the same frown that he had on whenever she had seen him struggle to deal with a particularly difficult problem while doing math. There was something else that was bothering him, and she could tell that he wasn't in the mood to share. 

Remembering that she still had to call Margaery to tell her that she would love to go to the park with her family - when had she decided that? - she hurriedly slurped her tea and went up the stairs two at a time. 

Dialling Margaery's number, she fell back into bed and waited for her to pick up. 

"Hello?" 

She pressed the phone closer to her ear, smiling at the sound of Margaery's voice. "Hi." 

"Sansa! Did your mother tell you I called?" 

"She did. I'd love to come." 

"That's great!" Sansa could practically hear her beaming. "I'm really glad to hear that. I hope you don't mind my family." 

"Of course not! You don't mind if I'm there, do you?" 

Margaery laughed. "I _want_ you there, silly. Can we pick you up in an hour?" 

Sansa glanced at the time. 9:20 AM. 

"Sure!" She said, twirling a strand of her hair with one finger. 

"Great! I'll see you then." 

They said goodbye and Sansa hung up the phone with a strange feeling of deja vu, like she already had a similar conversation. It was only when she ran downstairs an hour later to greet Margaery and her family that she remembered that she used to lie on her bed and fiddle with her hair when she was on the phone with Joffrey.

  


* * *

  


"Willas and Garlan will be there too." Margaery told Sansa excitedly. "I know they'll love you." 

Sansa smiled a little hesitantly. She had forgotten about Margaery's two oldest brothers - who had stayed in Highgarden with their father - and she had assumed that the only other company would be Loras and Olenna Tyrell. 

"Sansa." Olenna Tyrell addressed her suddenly, causing her to jump. "Tell me about yourself. Margaery had you all to herself yesterday." 

Sansa's cheek turned a light pink. "Um..." 

"She's an artist, grandmother." Margaery spoke up, saving Sansa from potential embarrassment. "You should see her paintings." 

"That's lovely! Perhaps you could paint something for us one day. You know," The old woman turned her head slightly from the driver's seat. "Margaery is terrible at art. It's a good thing she has you to help her." 

"She's a wonderful teacher too." Margaery beamed fondly, and Sansa couldn't help but feel a certain amount of pride and self-satisfaction. 

Another hour passed by with occasional chatter and the Stark girl found that the Tyrells were more amicable and friendly than she had expected. The usually pleasant Loras Tyrell who sat next to her in English class was the only exception - he was surprisingly quiet and looked rather sullen as he stared out the window. 

Margaery noticed Sansa glancing at him and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "He's upset because grandmother invited you but not Renly." 

Even the sweet Sansa had to admit that, although she liked Renly, he could be somewhat of a pompous ass. But he was still definitely more likeable than the rest of his family.

"Cheer up." Margaery nudged the silent girl next to her. "Not even Loras can stay sulky around Willas." 

"If they're as nice as the rest of your family, I can't wait." Sansa smiled. 

Olenna laughed when she heard that, pulling the car up outside a modest-looking building. "You won't need to wait any longer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 3 months I'm trash but I'm also on study break right now so I'm trying to write more! Also there's only a few more chapters left (maybe 5 - 8) so I want to finish this fic within the next few months. Thank you so much if you're still reading this it means a lot to me!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been nearly a year since I started writing this (wow), and I wanted to thank you guys for sticking around even though I've taken this long for just 10 chapters! I feel like my writing style has changed a lot (hopefully improved) and the story is turning out a little differently than I'd originally planned. I wish I had more time to devote to this fic and really use all of its potential, so I'm doing my best! Thanks again for reading :)

The "modest-looking" building was a deceiving entrance to the most beautiful park Sansa had seen in her life. The woman at the gate had glanced at Olenna before waving them past without asking for an entry fee. The park was large with a path running all the way around it, and Sansa spotted a children's playground in the distance. There were quite a few people there for so early on in the day, sprawled out in the long grass under one of the many trees that rustled gently in the breeze. It was nearly noon, but the park was surprisingly cool with the faint scent of flowers in the air. Sansa breathed in, the refreshing air a welcome change from the mildly polluted stink of home. 

Margaery's shoulder brushed against hers as they walked, and Sansa was acutely aware of each time their skin touched, her hairs standing up. All of a sudden, Margaery grabbed Sansa's arm and pointed. "There they are!" 

Sansa, who was trying to keep her face from going too red, looked in the direction Margaery was indicating to see two men (they looked too old to be called boys) leaning against one of the trees and engaged in an animated conversation. One of them was absent-mindedly stroking a dog and a crutch lay to the side. 

Margaery (who had let go of Sansa's arm) was beaming, and Sansa realised that she hadn't seen her brothers since she'd moved. Even Loras had gotten over himself and was back to his cheery mood. One of the two looked up and Sansa was struck by how similar to Loras he was. A smile lit up his face and his nose crinkled at the corners the same way Margaery's did. The other one - the one petting the dog - looked up too, and Sansa guessed that he was the elder of the two. 

"That's Willas." Margaery leaned in to tell Sansa softly, so that her grandmother wouldn't hear. "He was in a horse accident when he was 10, that's why he still uses a crutch. He's also grandmother's favourite." 

They were within hearing range, so Margaery fell silent, and her hair brushed the Sansa's chin as she moved away from her ear. Hoping that her hair was still redder than her face, she mustered a smile in response to the curious glances of the two Tyrells she had never met. 

  


* * *

  


A cup of apple juice (which she learned was Margaery's favourite) and two sandwiches later, she found herself relaxing as Willas Tyrell struck up a conversation with her, surprised at how easy it was. 

"Is that your dog?" She asked him. 

"Luthor? He's technically the family dog." 

"Only technically." Garlan laughed. "Good luck trying to get him away from Willas." 

Luthor, who had perked up at the mention of his name, sniffed at Sansa for the fifteenth time since she had arrived. 

"It's alright." Willas told him. "She's nice." 

Sniffing again, Luthor tilted his head for a moment before laying back down at Willas's feet. 

The man scratched the dog's ears fondly, and Sansa smiled. 

"You know," Margaery said suddenly. "One of our Northern Inuits at the estate gave birth recently. If you like, you could have one of the puppies." 

"Me?" Sansa was taken aback. She was the last person anyone should entrust a dog to - where would she even _keep_ a dog? Just because she liked dogs it didn't mean that she knew how to look after them. And she didn't think her parents would be happy to have to look after six children and a dog. 

"Yeah!" Margaery said enthusiastically. "You should come by one day with your parents to see if you want any of them." 

"She's just coming up with more excuses to invite you home." Loras laughed. 

Maybe it was just Sansa's imagination, but the tips of the Tyrell girl's ears flushed red and she threw a grape at her youngest brother, who was smirking knowingly. Sansa _knew_ her face had gone cherry red, and she realised that that had been happening _way_ too much of late.

Sansa's phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to glance at the screen. 

_"Joff calling"_

"Do you have to take that?" 

She didn't reply for a few seconds, staring at her phone a little uncertainly. "No." She said finally, turning it off and looking up with a bright smile.

  


* * *

  


Olenna and Garlan were engaged in a serious conversation, Loras was engrossed in reading Northern Lights (which he assured Sansa was _much_ better than the movie), andWillas and Luthor had dozed off when Margaery pulled Sansa up by the hand to walk around the park. The girl didn't let go of her hand as they walked, her long fingers entwined with Sansa's slim ones. They circled the park a few times in silence, and Sansa had never been surrounded by so much beauty in herself. 

"I can't believe it's only been a week." Margaery said suddenly. 

"A week since what?" 

"Since we met." Margaery smiled at her crookedly. 

"Oh." Sansa realised with a start that it _had_ only been a week since she had first seen Margaery in her history class. 

The taller girl laughed. "I've never made friends this fast." 

Sansa smiled. "Neither have I." 

"You're really easy to make friends with." Margaery brushed her thumb against Sansa's. "You're too sweet to not like." 

Sansa blushed. " _You're_ too nice."

They stopped to face each other on a little bridge that crossed over the lake, and Margaery's family were nothing but tiny dots in the distance. 

"Thank you." Margaery said earnestly, her cheeks tinged pink and her hair a little messy in places from the wind. 

On an impulse, Sansa leaned forward and kissed her.


End file.
